Feeling Like a Ghost
by techManticore
Summary: After the events of the fight with Notorious B.I.G. Buccellati takes a minute for some much needed alone time with Giorno.


Buccellati grabbed Giorno by the hand and silently pulled him away from the others leaving them on the beach while the others continued to make their way father up Sardinia. Mista, Abbacchio, and Narancia were scouting the island for enemies and probably didn't even notice Buccellati and Giorno were no longer walking behind them. Trish was hiding in the turtle which was tucked under Narancia's arm. The group had just narrowly escaped their confrontation with Notorious B.I.G. and while it would be nice to rest and relax for a bit they knew they only had so much time to find more information on the boss before they were attacked again.

Once they were alone Buccellati folded his arms around Giorno in a bone crushing hug. He tucked his face against Giorno's neck and tightened his arms. Giorno's hand immediately went to Buccellati's hair in an attempt to comfort him. Giorno was worried, Buccellati could tell even though he wasn't saying anything and he couldn't see Giorno's face. He felt a little guilty for making Giorno worry, Buccellati knows his behavior is out of character. He's usually not so outwardly affectionate, at least not when they're in public and not when they're in so much danger of being killed. They're always being watched and there is always a chance of an attack. That being said Buccellati can't help but cling to Giorno. That last fight had shaken him considerably and the constant battles so far had taken its toll on him. Not to mention the whole being dead thing. Everything had been so fucked up since Polpo died.

"Bruno what—" Giorno started but was cut off by Buccellati's mouth, swallowing the words Giorno was about to say. _Bruno what's wrong? _Everything. Everything's wrong and now he can't take comfort in someone he cares about because he can't even feel anything.

Buccellati pulled back slightly to allow Giorno to get a breath before their lips met again. Giorno was kissing back but Buccellati wasn't even sure he was enjoying the kiss. If he really concentrated he could almost feel the sensation of Giorno kissing him, but ultimately he couldn't feel anything at all. Was he pressing too hard or not hard enough for Giorno? Were his lips in a comfortable position? The only way Buccellati knew he was even kissing Giorno's lips was because he had his eyes cracked open a bit. It was all extremely frustrating, but despite the difficulty he tried to progress the kiss. Buccellati managed to slip his hands under Giorno's shirt, but as soon as he touched Giorno's skin Giorno flinched away presumably because of Buccellati's freezing hands. Giorno tried to tuck himself closer into Buccellati's body and fisted the fabric of the back of his shirt. Buccellati squeezed his eyes shut as his memory flashed back to the fight on the plane. Giorno hunched over his arm, his face full of pain and fear was so clear in Buccellati's mind that it sent a deep chill down his spine, making him dig his fingers in to Giorno's back. A moment later Giorno pulled away. Buccellati moved his hands to Giorno's shoulders and heaved a sigh.

"Bruno?" Giorno tried again. Buccellati's mouth twitched up into a small smile at the use of his first name. He loved it when Giorno called him Bruno instead of Buccellati or boss or whatever anyone else called him. It was a small act of intimacy that was very comforting to Buccellati at this particular moment. He squeezed Giorno's shoulders and gave him a few more slow kisses before resting his forehead against Giorno's. Enough stalling. Giorno deserved answers for why Buccellati was acting this way. It wasn't fair to worry him and then keep him in the dark.

"You scared the shit out of me back there on the plane," Bruno finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. He really didn't want to talk about any of this stuff. "I had no idea what to do. You could have died."

"We all could have died," Giorno said bluntly. "If it wasn't for Trish. Besides Mista and Narancia were worse off than I was. And were all okay now, right?" He gave Buccellati a little squeeze as he finished speaking.

Buccellati smiled again, a bit sadly, and closed his eyes. "Yes we're all okay," he sighed, but a moment later his face screwed up into a more painful expression as he remembered the events on the plane. "But something about your expression…I'd never seen you so vulnerable. It was shocking." Buccellati ran a finger along Giorno's cheek affectionately. "And when you were mumbling about putting the fingers in the fridge I didn't know what you were even saying. I had no idea how to help you and that scared me. I know we're in a dangerous situation but… I just…needed to hold you for a bit before we moved on."

Giorno hummed softly in response and moved his head so it rested on Buccellati's chest. After a couple of seconds Giorno started speaking again.

"When you said that we were all fine you were lying weren't you. You're not okay, Bruno. I know you're not." Giorno leaned harder into Buccellati and clenched his fingers against his back. At least that's what Buccellati assumed Giorno was doing. He couldn't feel any of it of course. Buccellati didn't say anything in response to Giorno's accusation. He didn't want to try to explain something to Giorno he barely understood himself. The only thing Buccellati knew was that Giorno and his beautiful, fearsome power was the reason he was standing there at that moment. He only hoped to remain in this state long enough to see that the mission was complete. Giorno would be able to tie up any loose ends he left behind as well as take over the gang. He was plenty capable. Abbacchio might oppose him at first, but he'd come around. Maybe he could even convince Fugo to come back. Buccellati had total faith in Giorno and his abilities. He wasn't afraid to die.

"I'm sure you already figured it out yourself. There's no sense of me repeating it," was what Buccellati eventually said. He pressed his lips to the crown of Giorno's head and rubbed his back soothingly. "I'm sorry it turned out like this. I wish we had time to figure things out between us, but it looks like that's not going to happen."

Giorno shook his head. "It's not your fault. We're all ready to die. It's naïve to think we'd all make it out of this alive. I'm just grateful you're here now. It would had been worse if you…if you…" Giorno swallows thickly. "We probably wouldn't have survived that plane ride."

"You would have. Even if Narancia and Mista were taken out. You and Trish and Abbacchio are powerful and smart. You would have figured things out without me. You know that; you've done it before." Buccellati paused then said, "I'm glad I'm here right now too."

Giorno said nothing in return, which was fine with Buccellati.

This was the part where one partner usually confessed their love to the other. Buccellati wanted to say those words to Giorno, but he couldn't. Because ultimately they weren't true. Buccellati loved Giorno just like he loved the rest of his gang. It wasn't the type of love you'd whisper to someone on the beach after and emotionally draining conversation. But Buccellati had a feeling that this would be the only chance he got to say something of that nature, and while it wasn't exactly true now Buccellati knew Giorno was someone he would fall in love with. So he thought of his next words very carefully.

"You are a very beautiful person, Giorno," Buccellati said, missing the way Giorno shivered at his name being whispered sensually in his ear. "And I'm so glad I met you" It was as close to "I love you" as Buccellati could get, and while it wasn't exactly the same he felt better knowing Giorno had some idea how much he cared. And he cared a whole fucking lot about Giorno.

Giorno lifted his head from Buccellati's chest and smiled, "Me too," he said pressing a kiss to Buccellati's mouth. Buccellati hummed and kissed him back, cupping Giorno's face gently in his hands. A couple of tears almost dripped from Giorno's eyes, but Buccellati caught them with his thumbs before they left his eyelashes.

"Please don't cry for me," Buccellati whispered against Giorno's lips. Giorno only shook his head but no more tears fell.

They kissed for another minute before Buccellati pulled away. "We need to get back to the others," he said. And just like that he was back to the stoic capo Giorno always knew. Giorno nodded and followed Buccellati up the path to where the other members of his gang were waiting for them impatiently.


End file.
